


Pearls & Chains

by darkfusionx



Series: Delilah's Delites [1]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Chair Bondage, Dom Tom, Drinking, F/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stripping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkfusionx/pseuds/darkfusionx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom has a some free time and takes a trip to New York City to Delilah's Delites where he meets the latest addition to Delilah's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Tom story. Comments are welcome. Thank you.
> 
> ****I apologize for any grammatical errors. I am making changes as I go along. Once again, thank you so much for reading.****

 

It was two days ago when I completed work on my latest project. For the past few months, I have been traveling about. And the signs of wear and tear were becoming evident. I had bags under my eyes and I had lost weight for this latest role. To say, I was exhausted was an understatement.

I was well on my back to London, but decided to take a small detour to New York City. I loved New York. It was a beautiful city. The bright lights of Times Square were bedazzling. They were always full of promise and hope. But the city held something dark and mysterious in its grasp. This is what made me adore the place so much. It was gritty and dirty. Imperfect. Just like me.

I checked myself into a hotel nearby. The concierge recognized immediately, but didn't make a big fuss about it. Just the way I liked it. He asked me if I was planning to stay a while. I said no. Only for a day and then off to jolly old England. I checked in under an assumed name. My mind jogged through all the people I have played over the years, and the one that resonated with me was F. Scott Fitzgerald. I checked in as Scott Fitzgerald.

He handed me my key card. I thanked him and walked towards the elevators. I pressed the button and the elevator doors opened. I walked in and pressed ‘13’ on the display. Soon after, I found myself standing in front of room 1302. The numbers were written in golden embroidery against the white door. I slid in my key card and waited for the light to turn green. It did. As I opened the door, I heard someone in the room next door, open the door. I quickly went inside and closed the door behind me.

I placed my luggage in the corner of the room. The room was a luxury suite. The suite was painted in a creamed color. The furniture was an off white with gold frame. In front of the king size bed, against the wall was a flat screen television mounted. There was a minibar which was near the window, stocked to the brim with various kinds of liqueur. I frowned when I noticed there was no Jameson to be had. I closed the refrigerator and plopped down on the bed. I sighed as I laid across the bed. My limbs were tired from the extensive traveling.

I didn’t feel like watching the television, so I thought if I get some rest I could make my flight. However, I didn’t feel like sleeping. I didn’t just come all this way to New York, only to sleep. I wanted something more….

So I picked myself out of bed and walked towards my luggage. My carry-on bag contained a few items that I needed. In a side pocket, I searched for a business card.  
A smile formed at the corners of my mouth, when I found the card. The card felt smooth between my fingers. _Delilah’s Delites_ was written in red and pink cursive. An image of a silhouetted woman in a seductive pose was on either side of the piece of parchment. I sniffed it, the smell of jasmine filled my nostrils. I put the card on the nightstand and pulled out a clean white shirt, a black suit and dress shoes from the bag.

It was still early so I decided that it was best to take a nap. I set the alarm on my phone for 11pm and made my way back towards the bed. I stretched and closed my eyes.  
Before I knew it I was greeted with Maroon 5’s Moves Like Jagger. Adam Levine’s voice filled the room. I opened my eyes slightly and looked at my phone. It was the alarm, it was 11 O’clock. I press the dismiss button. After hopping off the bed, I went to use the bathroom and then took a shower. 

After the shower, I brushed my teeth and quickly got dressed. I put on my suit and a black tie and grabbed the key card, glasses and phone. I gave myself one last look in the mirror and made sure that my hair was combed. I closed the door behind me and walked down the hallway towards the elevator, whistling _Moves Like Jagger._  
In a few minutes, I was outside of the hotel and walking down Broadway. Delilah’s was on W49th and 8 Avenue. It was a short distance from the hotel, which was a good thing for me. 

Once I arrived, two big guys were standing at the entrance. They looked like they meant business. They smiled when they saw me. They gave me a handshake and welcomed me in. When I stepped inside, the place was dark. The only visible lights were directed towards a stage and some over the bar. The décor was purple and black. The walls were mauve and the chairs were black leather with purple trim. Tonight they were going for a Southern motif. The club had a mixture of old South meets Dirty.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ms. Delilah herself. Delilah Rae was the owner of _Delilah’s Delites_ , a gentlemen’s club. Her auburn hair flowed down to the middle of her back. My eyes surveyed her body. Delilah was a statuesque woman. She wore a black leather leggings that accentuated her curves. Her boots rose just above her knees. Her pink corset had black butterflies fluttering about in various directions.

I smiled as Delilah walked towards me. I watched as she look me up and down. It felt as though I could tell what she was thinking. She wanted to fuck me. I wanted to oblige on several occasions, however Delilah informed me that she doesn’t sleep with her clients…at least not anymore since she took over the club from her former boss two years ago.

“Mr. H, it’s a pleasure to see you again. What has it been a year?” Delilah asked, every bit of her southern accent resonating in my ears.  
“Hello, Delilah. Please call me Tom. It’s been a year, yes.” 

“Are you filming in the city or something?” Delilah asked, as she signaled for a waitress to come over.

I looked into her green eyes. “Erm..no. Just overdue for much needed R&R.” I replied while eye fucking her.

“I see. Well, I’m glad to see you again. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“Yes, I will. Thank you.” 

Delilah looked me up and down once more before she left. She went to check on some of the other patrons who were seated at the bar. Just then the waitress approached me. A cute blonde with a gap in her front teeth. She gave me a wide smile. The waitress wore a tight purple v neck shirt that bore Delilah’s Delites just above her left breast. In addition, she had black jean shorts that showed off her short toned legs and a pair of black Keds. She asked what I would like to drink.

“Jameson, please. Thank you.”

She smiled again and said she would return with my order. In the meantime, I found a seat close to the stage. As I sat down, the next dancer was set to come on.  
There was a deejay booth behind me on the second floor. The deejay introduced the dancer.

Her name was Clementine. It was such an odd name for a dancer I thought. But soon it made sense when she walked towards the pole, wearing a denim mini skirt and a red bikini top with white polka dots. She wore tan cowboy boots with fringe around the neck of the boots. Clementine’s raven-colored hair was covered with a white cowboy hat that kept her eyes hidden. 

The crowd was a buzz. They wanted to see what she could do. And I found my curiosity peaking. As Jace Everett’s Bad Things began to fill the air, Clementine grabbed onto the pole, jumped and spun around. The waitress had come back with my drink and sat it down next to me on a small table.

Clementine stopped spinning and climbed higher and flipped herself upside down while spread eagled rubbing herself against the metal. Her hat finally down onto the stage and her hair was flowing downwards. As she became upright again, Clementine left the pole and came forward. Taking long strides as her hips moved back and forth. 

I took a sip of my drink and placed it back on the table. The lights illuminated her eyes, which revealed a lovely shade of green. They were oval shaped. She wore red and blue eye shadow. Clementine stood at the edge of the stage gyrating. She dropped to her knees and began to crawl like animal stalking its prey. The men who were sitting close to the stage whistled and tossed their money on the stage.

Then our eyes met. Gray on green. A half smile danced across her lips. As she continued to stare at me, she stopped moving and sat on her knees again, touching her breasts. Clementine rubbed them slowly. I could see her nipples erect through the flimsy fabric. Then with a flick of a finger she untied the top and tossed it into the audience. The crowd roared at the sight of Clementine’s beautiful breasts. Clementine’s hand glided down towards her waist. Her small fingers toying with her skirt. One by one she unbuttoned the skirt. She opened the flap, exposing a white G-string. The girl was loving the attention she was receiving. 

With the song almost reaching its peak, Clementine tugged on the material. We all watched as she slowly pushed the skirt over her hips and down her legs and over her boots. The skirt went into the crowd and some bloke caught it in mid air. He waved it around as if it were the winning ball in the World Series.

Ms. Clementine had us definitely eating out of the palm of her hand. I watched intently as she crawled her way back towards the pole. She knew she owned us. As she slithered around the metallic object, a smirk was painted across her lips. She looked at me again. Clementine was challenging me. I didn’t react to her, but I felt the beast begin to rise within. I crossed my legs, but my erection was making it difficult. 

Clementine swung around the pole two more times, before coming to a complete stop. She managed to spin herself in such a way that she was able to slide off the G-string. With her back arched, she looked sexier than when she first came to the stage.

The song finished and the raven-haired goddess descended from her perch. With a big smile on her face she scooped up her hat and placed it on her head and waved to the crowd and ran back through the purple curtain. It was at this moment I knew I just had to have _her_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is from Clementine's pov.

I ran back to the large dressing room. The club’s a/c was on and it was November. I shivered as I ran down the hallway. Then some of the other girls congratulated me, especially since this was my second time on the stage. I thanked them as I opened the door. I grabbed my robe from the closet next to the vanity and sat on the couch.   
My mind was all over the place. The natural high I was on was slowly fading away. As I struggled to gather my thoughts, someone knocked on the door. Two knocks. It was Delilah. 

“Come in.” I said.

Delilah opened the door and gave me a big smile. She said,

“Sugar, I don’t know what you did but you got one of the clients requesting a private show with you.”

I chuckled. “Delilah, they always want a private show.”

“Well, this one is…different. All you have to do is give him a private lap dance, okay?” Delilah replied.

“How much?”

Delilah looked away and said, “A thousand bucks.”

“What the fuck?! For a lap dance?!” 

“Shhh. Keep ya voice down. Sugar, please? He’s a good client and I don’t want to lose his business.”

I locked eyes with her. I sensed there was something she wasn’t telling me. There was more to this than what Delilah was saying. But since I wasn’t a cop, I wasn’t about to play Columbo. The only thing that mattered was the money. Then I said,

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Good.” Delilah smiled. 

Delilah looked passed me. Her eyes were fixed on something on the vanity. Just hanging over the mirror was two pearl necklaces. She brushed past me and walked towards the mirror. I watched as her fingers caressed the necklaces. Suddenly, she turned and said,

“Where did ya get these?” 

“Those belonged to my grandmother. She gave them to me when I was a little kid.”

“That’s nice, sugar. Wear these. Our client likes his women to dress classy.”

“Classy? What kind of guy am I dealing with here?”

Then before I could say anything else she was gone. The door closed and all I could hear was the faint sounds of her footsteps. I looked at the pearls. The thought of having my first private dance scared me. But I knew that if I didn’t do it, I would feel Delilah’s wrath not to mention all the girls would look at me like a punk. I was still the new girl on the block and I had to prove to all of them that I could get just as nasty as the rest of them. 

I quickly showered and got dressed. I put on a red frilly dress. Since the club was doing a Southern theme, I thought wearing the gown and the pearls would be nice. With my stockings and garters on, I was almost ready to go. My red pumps were in a suitcase in the closet. After I fished them out, I squeezed my feet into them. The shoes pinched my feet, but I didn’t care. If all goes well, I wouldn’t have to wear them long.

I left my makeup for last. A little bit of mascara and red eye shadow and lip gloss was all I needed. I gave myself one last look and opened the door and left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom's POV again.

I sat in one of the V.I.P rooms waiting for her. It had been almost twenty minutes since I told Delilah that I wanted Clementine. Delilah appeared hesitant when I spoke of wanting a private dance. Or maybe she felt a sense of uncertainty when I made a special request. A drink later, Clementine entered the room. She was gorgeous. I studied her closely. She closed the door behind her. 

Her green eyes were fixed on me. Gray on green. She waited to see if I was going to make a move. Then, she said,

“Hello.” 

I nodded.

“So I heard that you enjoyed my performance. I am glad that you enjoyed the show.”

I nodded.  
She just stood there. Her back against the wall. Her hand within reach of the doorknob. The poor girl wanted to run. I smiled to myself. I found it all rather amusing to see this woman who exuded so much confidence on stage was now standing before me like a frightened child. 

“So, you want your lap dance now?” She asked. 

I took another sip of my drink and placed it back on the table. I motioned for her to sit down and have a drink with me. She didn’t move. She just stood there. Then she muttered under breath and attempted to open the door. As the door opened, I got up and pinned her against the wall.


End file.
